


I Ask But One Thing Of You

by a_goddy_goose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M, Guilt, Separation Anxiety, Separations, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2621240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_goddy_goose/pseuds/a_goddy_goose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly has some news for Sherlock, he reacts in a way nobody was expecting- maybe not even himself- But the repercussions of their actions stay with Molly for a long time after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I honestly thought that person was you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rageandserenityis_ecstasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rageandserenityis_ecstasy/gifts).



> This is edited from a roleplay I did a while ago, unfortunately my Sherlock's brother died, and became inactive. This is for them, and in memory of their brother  
> Thanks to the beautiful rageandserenityis_ecstasy for fixing it

“Sherlock, I need to tell you something.” Molly stood opposite Sherlock in 221B Baker Street

“And what would that be Molly dear?” the detective rose from his seat at the desk and tugged his suit jacket straight

“I’m in love with your brother, and he loves me too. We’re going to move in together.” She said, not looking into his eyes. He paused, as if digesting this information and then spoke, with perfect dictation, and a false cheeriness.

“Oh how delightful. I didn't think my brother had it in him to actually date such a beautiful woman.”

She glanced up towards him, brown eyes searching  “...You’re not mad?” Her voice was quiet

“Of course not!” He answered quickly- “maybe I’m slightly disappointed, however it’s about your happiness.” Then the man sidestepped to walk past the woman and over the coffee table.

“Disappointed? Why?” She spun around in a little bit of a daze, her gaze following his imposing shape as it moved past her

“I was just rather hoping that there may be a chance between you and I.” The detective went and flopped on the couch, not looking at the pathologist stood in disbelief in front of him

“But.. Bu.. John…” She stammered, she had presumed that her detective and the doctor were… Involved

“Him, Well- yes. John and I are merely friends as of late. Obviously he still has feelings for Mary. I am but an outcast to this all round love affair.” His long musical fingers ran through a mop of curly black hair

“Oh Sherlock, I'm so sorry…” She felt like a shadow was growing in the center of her chest, like she had committed some sin

“It's alright Molly. If that is how you feel, then in no way will I try to impede on something that makes you happy.” He spoke, scrubbing his hands over his face, scrubbing away the lies falling from his mouth  
  


The pathologist knelt in the space between the man she had loved and the coffee table, which on her own admission, was not very large. “Sherlock, there will be someone out there for you. I promise, they're hard to find, and you might not expect it, but there will be someone.”

He splayed his long fingers and his grey eyes peered through at her, suddenly only centimeters from his face “Molly... I honestly thought that person was you.”

“I wish you had said something... Mycroft and I have been dating for months. I thought you had noticed and... And had just not said anything…” She dipped her head, not able to hold his gaze, feeling ashamed and stupid

He studied her face, trying to deduce how she was feeling, but sentiment clouded his vision “I honestly didn't notice... I've been so caught up in my mind, thinking about you and all the things I'd want to do with you, that I lost track of time.” There was a pause in which neither of them spoke or moved- then his hands dropped to his legs with a thud, snapping them out of it; “Quite a lot of time it would seem.”

A colour similar to that of a rose filled her cheeks, at the very thought of him thinking about her like /that/ “I'm sorry Sherlock. I had no idea you felt that way about me. Maybe if I had, this would have been different.” Her attempt to keep her tone distant was cracked with the truth.

He gently placed his hand on her burning cheek and  slowly tilted her face up so that she was looking at him “Molly... I love you. And if loving you means watching from the sidelines, no matter how much it hurts, I'll do it.” His eyes were filled with sadness and regret as they bore into hers.

She blinked away the tears that threatened her eyes and knelt up to press a gentle kiss to his forehead “You're an idiot, sometimes, Sherlock, really you are. You're my best friend. Next time just tell them how you feel before it's too late. Please.” Her voice was thick with the regret clouding her mind, she knew this was a goodbye.

Sherlock closed his eyes tightly as Molly pressed the kiss to his forehead. Before she could pull away, he reached out and grabbed her hands tightly in his. “Molly... I ask but one thing of you.” His voice was low and like silk to her ears

She looked down at their entangled hands and then up into his now ice blue eyes  
“This old one? I'm not helping you fake your death again!” She attempted to joke, her voice thick with unspoken emotion.

He stared back into her smouldering eyes, his own sparkling with emotion. Squeezing her warm hands as he fought back the tears that threatened to overspill. “Promise me you'll do this one thing for me.”

She swallowed and glance down again trying not to have a complete breakdown in the  middle of 221B Baker Street. A part of her brain wondered if he was making her feel like this on purpose, test her, but she answered anyway “Anything, Sherlock, you know I will.” She spoke flatly, but full of sincerity

He smouldered into her with an icy stare. Knowing his Pathologist wouldn't be able to resist. “Kiss me, Molly Hooper.” The voice was low in a seductive whisper

She digest the request slowly, mulling it over before slowly leaning in and pressing a gentle chaste kiss on his lips, eyes closing .

His hands gently glided through her hair from the base of her neck, lips gently parting against hers to breathe in the sweet scent. His let his eyes fall shut as he allowed lips to soften, moving them slowly, tenderly and rhythmically with hers, trying to seduce her. A moan escaped her lips before she can stop it, her lips moulding against his perfectly as her heart beat increased to the point where she could hear it thudding in her ears. This was a bad idea, she knew it was. But at the same time it felt so right- she had wanted this for years, but she tilted her head away. Foreheads still resting. Noses still touching.  
  
“Sherlock, I really shouldn't…”

His breath was heavy as she pulled away, his heart racing ahead of his thoughts. He still had his hands placed firmly through her hair, and he gently decided to slide them so that he could hold the base of her neck-  
  
“Molly... I love you…”  
  
He leaned in and pressed a desperate, but loving and gentle kiss to her lips, hands trailing down to reset firmly on hips.

She kissed back without thinking, everything she had felt for years flooding into the gesture. Sitting up into the kiss so that his knees press underneath her ribs. But something stopped her taking it any further, Molly’s head tilted once again

  
“Sherlock I really, really shouldn't”  
  
But she couldn't help it though and tilt her head back to kiss him on it’s own accord, resistance was indeed futile.

He breathed deeply as she kissed him, and his hands gently locked onto your hips, dragging you onto my lap softly with the strength of a lion. The kiss turned hungry and more passionate, Sherlock’s hands wandering across Molly’s body as he hold her, feeling years of emotion flooding through him.   
  
“Molly... I need you.” His voice rough and desperate against her lips.

She slid up easily onto his lap with his help and curled her fingers into the soft curls on top of his head and tugged on them gently, trying to take out some of her frustration while sat straddling his lap, kissing her boyfriends brother. “Sherlock... Please.. I…” Her voice gave away how torn she was, breath heavy against moist lips.

**  
He knew once his warm soft hands had glided against her trembling skin, she would give in to him. Hands gently slipped underneath the soft, pliant fabric of her shirt, and caressed the burning hot flesh with marble hands, never once pulling away from delicious lips. Her back arched as he touched, letting Sherlock cool her skin as cropped fingernails trace down his scalp and down to the collar of his shirt, and attempted to pull away from the kiss she wanted “He'll know, Sherlock, I can't... I shouldn't”**


	2. Just shut up and stop me thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is just short so I can fit all the smut into the next chapter x

“He'll know, Sherlock, I can't... I shouldn't” Molly’s voice was  breathy and desperate- her body contradicting the nagging part in her mind mind entirely

When his pathologist tried to pull away the detective just made his lips softer and more gentle, trying to show her how tender he could be despite popular belief. His eyes fell shut softly again as cool hands slowly started to lift his Molly’s shirt up and over her head, only pulling away briefly to pull it away and dump it on the floor. Soon lips desperately found contact again and he kissed her like a drowning man who had found his oxygen. Soft marble hands traced every curve of woman’s body, wanting her to feel appreciated.  
  


Her body reacts to this touch, feeling pliant against the cool fingers which sent shivers down her spine. She found her shaking fingers fumbling to undo the buttons of his shirt, the texture of the soft material complimenting the soft skin it had hidden underneath. Another moan passes against her lips to his as her mind gives way to truest desires. Sherlock Holmes.

The man grinned against her lips, knowing he had his girl. She had submitted to him, but he promised that he would make her feel on top of the world, and not abuse the position. The kisses grew hot and wet as the tension grew. Sherlock shrugged his shirt off helpfully moments before she started work on his trousers. Between them they got them off gently, along with the rest of their clothes so that Molly sat naked in Sherlock’s bare arms. The worlds only consulting detective pulled away momentarily to marvel at how utterly gorgeous the woman in his arms looked, her curves made him more excited then he had ever been in his whole life, it even topped a locked room serial killer. He marvelled at how the light rested against them, exaggerating them marvelling every inch, licking already wet lips

“Molly... I'll make you scream. I'll give you all the pleasure you deserve. I'll make your body feel so alive…” Turquoise eyes bore into her pools of chocolate

“Shut up. Just shut up and stop me thinking.” She shut her eyes- not wanting to do anything other than feel. He obeyed, kissing her quickly. The room feeling cold against her skin now causing her to cling to the man tightly sucking his bottom lip gently, his smile was stretched from ear to ear as they kissed passionately. Sherlock’s fingers ran all the way through her scalp and down through your mouse brown locks. Gasps filled the air softly as their skin touched, warm against cool. Molly was soon scooped up in his arms- they never stopped kissing as Sherlock carried her through the flat expertly

“Let's go somewhere a little warmer…” The detective mumbled as Molly buried her head in his neck, clinging like a small child, nails brushing along the bumps of spine soothingly as he carried her. Kisses were pressed from collarbone up pale neck to the shell of his ear, whispers of promises she was planning to keep.

For the first time a thickness began stiffening between his legs. It was new to him, but however odd, he instinctively knew what to do. She was carried gently and carefully to the bedroom, shutting the door on the way with a gentle thud. The up-most care was made not to discomfort his princess, he cared so much. She was cuddled to his chest, before gently being lead to the bed and laid down on her back and crawling over her.  
  
“Mmmmm... You're absolutely beautiful Miss Hooper... So beautiful. And you're beautiful. Why do you have to be so god damn beautiful…” He mumbled almost sadly, but in more disbelief- she is pulled into a gentle kiss, it was sweet and passionate and everything he had to give right then. Long musician's fingers ran down her chest gently, still shaking slightly they gently rest on hips as teeth graze against lips, sucking and breathing in the air they were sharing. Molly was drowning in his scent (lavender, oranges and warm spices, faint chemicals and expensive shampoo.) having had caught whiffs over the years she knew it but now it was so pure and intense it almost overwhelmed her.

A faint smile pulled Sherlock’s lips up as he was pulled into irresistible kisses. He kissed back with passion and love, letting his long held love for her overwhelm his body. Hands did the talking, caressing and rubbing curves, and edges. Honoured that he was allowed to see and witness her perfect body despite its flaws. But he saw none. He only saw perfection. Pearly teeth gently nipped at a split bottom lip as the hands that had worshipped now wrestled with the blankets and nestled both bodies underneath. His lips hovered gently up to her ear, and let breath tickle the nape of the small thin neck.  
  
“I want to do something to you…” He whispered seductively

Little Molly’s breath hitches as the great Sherlock Holmes breath caresses her neck, the words were like warm ice that trickles down every pore to her very core - eyes are fully dilated and wide with anticipation.  
  
“And what would that be?” She whisper back, voice shaking

A low chuckle seductively slipped in her ear, his smile widening as thoughts about what he wanted to do to the woman beneath him. Gently tender, teasing kisses were pressed against the side of creamy neck, trailing down her arm and across to the two small, but perfectly formed breasts. He blushed when he met them, and took them both in his large hands and squeezed gently, rubbing them and placing fingertips on nipples, caressing them. He could feel them harden against the pads of his fingertips, and chuckled. before leaning down and opening his mouth and gently placed his tongue on a breast and sucking softly on the pink nubs. She involuntarily pushed her chest up to the touch, letting her detective take everything he wanted. As lips make contact to the skin her breath gets stuck in her throat and an 'oh' passes across chapped lips, her fingers gently stroking any soft skin she could reach gently.

 **  
**The youngest Holmes sucked noisily on his Molly’s breasts softly and ever so carefully, not wanting to hurt her. As he sucked one, he caressed and squeezed the other, eyes shut and mind focused on her only. Teeth gently nipped all the way along her breast, savouring the experience. Low moans of appreciation dragged at the back of his throat, loving how she tasted. Hot wet lips left skin boiling when he eventually moved on. Passionate kisses trailled all the way down to belly and hips, covering the tiny pathologist with love. Then gentle kisses found her inner thighs, and a smiled spread widely, looking up for approval to proceed with good intentions.


	3. You like that...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First part of Sherlock and Molly's escapades. Pure smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure smut! Just so you're warned

Molly squeaked as the man nipped skin the sensation spreading across nerves like a firework had gone off and the bright sparks made their way through her system. As he kissed lower her chest heaved with the deep breaths she was taking, brown eyes fixed on the ceiling as her teeth bit down on her lip hard. Only when she glanced down and meet his eye, searching for approval did she nodd, knowing his intent and that her body needed it, in whatever way he were willing to give.

He smiled widely, seeing that he was in the all clear. Inch by inch slowly he leaned my head closer and closer to it's destination; that being the sweet spot of her clitoris. As lips finally arrived after a few painstaking seconds, a hard breath breathed hit it, Molly scratched the scalp of the detective gently as he blew, inhaling quickly and deeply the sensation running up through her body. Molly’s mouth was hung open in shock and pleasure as she stared at Sherlock who gently brought his fingers up to his lips and sucked on them, lubricating them as he held her gaze. Slowly he brought the lubricated fingers up to the opening of warmth. Slowly he rubbed the outside as to tease it open, before gently sinking two fingers all the way inside.

“Oh.. Sherlock!” Came a whisper as her head rocked back as her hips rocked up, fingers penetrated warmth

  
“You like that...?” He purred, leaning his head forward and teasingly opened his mouth, allowing saliva to drop slowly down onto her swollen clitoris. Waiting until it was sufficiently lathered, he then leaned down and slipping the delicate skin into his mouth, using his tongue to guide it in. He sucked softly, nipping her folds and never ceasing his movements of fingers inside her. With a cool strong spare hand he gently pinned her hips down, steadying the body he suckled at, and penetrated his pathologist with pure compassion that he had been waiting to unleash. Whenever she reacted, moaning or gasping his name, it caused him to glow with satisfaction inside. He was in love with pleasing her.

“Oh... God. Yes.” She whimpered, fingers clutching in his curled hair as she drew her legs up to give him more access, wanting more, quite desperately so- she got it as as he began to suck and nip, every move sending another, different wave of satisfaction up her spine which then spread along all the nerves she had, heightening every move she made. How he managed to do this to her, she had no idea, every thought, heartbeat, drop of being she had was concentrated on that spot and in extension, the man pleasuring her like none other had before him.  
  
“ Sherlock, please I need…” She gasped breathily between shallow, panting, desperate breaths. He chuckled wickedly and decided to be even more naughty- he suck a little harder, and penetrated a little harder, and faster, not so that he hurt her, but enough to heighten the pleasure considerably. He soon felt fluids oozing onto long skilled fingers, and it made him feel hotter and hotter. The heightening intensity only caused her to garble incoherently, legs and fingers tightening their grip on the solid domineering man between her legs

“Come for me... Climax on my fingers... Feed me…” He was begging her softly as the movements quickening, tongue flickering against her fat clitoris more and more, and fingers penetrating and rubbing the walls of her warmth. He was now deep enough to find her G Spot, at first by accident but witnessing the response he rubbed fingers over and over again against it, teaming that with his usually sharp tongue to double the pleasure by sucking. They moaned in an erotic harmony. Her pleasure was his pleasure and he had never been this hard in all his life.

She responded, pushing down against the fingers and mouth, her body begging and screaming for more, hungry for what the man was giving it, craving the somehow expert touch and long fingers. The pathologist felt like she was hurtling towards the edge of a cliff and was tipping over the edge. The air fills with his name and a few expletives that come tumbling from the woman’s mouth loudly, her fingernails almost tearing a hole in the sheets, the pleasure almost blinding her- it felt like fireworks in front of her eyes, as she breathlessly begged and pleaded and screamed in want of the worlds only consulting detective.

He felt the warmth tighten around his fingers as she climaxed, desperate moans and squeals only encouraging him. He continued to penetrated as deep as he could and sucked her clitoris as hard as possible without hurting - wanting this breath-taking orgasm to be her best. Her hip was caressed with the free hand, reassuring her as the last spasm of pleasure rippled through her. As that happened, he gently withdrew the wet fingers from the warmth and leaned away from her sex; the fingers were covered in glistening fluids. he held the gaze as he lifted them up to his mouth to suck away her climax.  
  
“Mmmmmmmm.... You taste heavenly....” Her breathing was heavy and deep and her chest and stomach rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch her breath. After her breathing returns to a normal-ish rate she sat up and caressed from his unusually small ear along his jawline gently and then cupping his chin and kissing softly and slowly, tasting herself on him  
  
“I shouldn't be doing this…” Came the whisper against his swollen wet lips

 **  
**“Relax... My beautiful little flower... I am far from finished yet…” came the reply


	4. Just a little slower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much smut. Sorry for the delay.

“Relax... My beautiful little flower... I am far from finished yet…” came the reply  against her lips, sharing her climax as he yielded her tongue into his mouth, grinning against her love-swollen lips. Then gently she was scooped into his arms, so gentle and tender as to not hurt her, fitting perfectly in his arms, tiny limbs spilling over the protective hold elegantly, and gently laid her on her belly. He straddle her beautiful bottom and leant down, kissing all the way down her spine softly and so gently, lips like silk

Her face rubbed into his sheets, containing traces of his sent, they gathered between tiny fingers, clutching at the very idea of his existence. Then she felt hot thighs either side of her own, and his growth burning and throbbing on her lower back, paradoxically lips are soft and caring along her spine, each touch increasing the anticipation, knotting the warm pool at the base of her stomach

He smile against skin, it burnt with anticipation. It felt like his pathologist was about to burst into flames at any moment. But he was the only thing stopping it. Cool skin soothed burning flesh, kisses spread all over the woman’s back, tongue now reaching out to taste deliciousness. A moaned left his lips in appreciation, hardness throbbing with need. But he had to resist for now, wanting it to last. A hand reached over to the night-stand to grab a bottle of lavender scented massage oil, and a smirk played on his lips. She could feel every muscle his face pulled, blindly reading his emotion, and then she felt his absence, like someone had cut off the oxygen supply in a spaceship. She resisted the urge to turn around and see what he was doing and ruin the surprise - but she trusted him unconditionally. It was a cold liquid that was gently poured onto the centre of her back, engulfing the pale skin. Her gasp filled the thick air of the room as brown eyes flew wide, the cool liquid makes contact with hot skin, like finding an oasis in a desert, her back arched appreciatively each pore wanting the relief the oil offered

He chuckled at her reaction; it encouraged him as he watched the oil spread delicately, sinking into the open pores. Then gently and so softly advanced his hands and placed them on her oily back, before starting to slowly... Tenderly... Delicately massage the oil firmly but deeply, up and down, over and over.

Her head sank into the sheets to stifle the loud moan that passed her lips at the touch of his skin on hers again. What on earth was Mrs Hudson going to think was going on! She tried not to think, thinking at this point was dangerous so the only thing to do was feel- feel the long slender fingers work their way across her back making tight muscles relax on command, his command, complete control over her tiny body.

His smile widened as he traced his fingertips down her spine and the curve of her back, marvelling at delicious flesh. he leaned down and pressed yet more soft, tender kisses to the body, lips burning hot now. Sherlock rubbed firmly but carefully, large hands taking care as to not put too much pressure on her as she purred contently like a smooth engine, revelling in how he expertly weaved contentedness into her skin with fingers.

She squeaked as she was flipped over, the light catching her heavily dilated eyes by surprise. Stunned her responding kiss was a little messy, attempting feebly to keep up- moaning in protest his hand cupped her face and pulled the kiss to a steadier slower deeper kiss as oppose to the light, quick teasing ones, changing the pace and thus the mood of the interaction quickly.

He knotted fingers through her hair as he slowly lowered his body atop of hers, parting her legs as he did so, lying between them- delicately as to not hurt her, and gently rubbed his hard thickness against the length of her clitoris and vagina, almost humping, but wanting to build the tension. She moaned softly, knowing it was getting to the main event so to speak- as he moved her legs a raw guttural noise escapes from the back of her throat hitting his lips and into the kiss as he began to move against her, slowly building up a warm tight delicious coil in her centre. She started  to rock against him in appreciation, still kissing slowly. Uncontrollable lust, desire, passion and love ran wild and took over all of their senses. He growled softly as he kissed her a little deeper and a little harder, hips rocked in sync and his hardness throbbed. After a while, he gently pulled away from her  lips and looked at her, slightly concerned. He didn't want to enter if it was going to hurt, and needed to know if she was properly aroused.

  
“Sherlock…” Her voice wasn’t much above a whisper and sounded like a plea- it was really. He felt this aching desire that was just dying to come out. A quiet whine gently caressed her ear, before nipping along her jaw to lips, and pressing them into a needy kiss. His fingers knotted through her hair and gently swung his hips forward, so that his throbbing hardness gently penetrated all the way. He trembled in pleasure as they gasped almost in unison, mouth and eyes wide open. It slowly dawned on her that this was probably his first time.

“Sherlock, honey, please... Just a little slower…” She whispered gently against his wet lips, knowing that instinct would be to ram her into the bed so that she might not walk properly for days, but knew he didn't want that, and it was her place to teach him control and get the most out of the experience. She slowly rotated her hips, which sent shivers up and down her spine, giving herself time to adjust to his size.

However he looked eternally guilty, and gently drew himself out resembling a sad puppy. Gently he offered fingers in between her legs to gently soothe, rubbing gently and hung his head, starting again. Determined. He kissed her neck softly and delicately, each kiss an apology as hands caressed every inch of her naked body, showing her that to him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And that he wanted nothing more than for her to feel how much she were to him

“Sherlock, honey, it's fine- I can cope, take what you need” Came her whisper pathetically in his ear completely out of control of emotions and feelings towards her detective.  She felt empty without his presence inside, mind and body accept his apology willingly, moving with him, against him, capturing him and letting him capture her- giving what he wanted, already feeling more than she ever had from his gentle touches and reassurance

“I... Want you to feel like a goddess... I will try harder. I want you to feel special. I will never merely take from you. I shall give. Always give.. Forever give to you…” He whispered passionately back, seducing with sincerity. He gently tried once more; slowly sinking his thickness half way in, never being too tough or too hard. Just right. Knowing full well this wasn't enough to please her and make her orgasm, so he used his skillful hands as he rocked his hips back and forth, penetrating so softly and so, so slowly, trailing one hand down to her clit, and rubbed consistently and so seductively with his thumb whilst using his other hand to caress her bare flesh, finding places of heightened sensitivity to please and tease. He kissed her passionately, moaning in pleasure as her warmth tightened against his thickness. She grew easily to accommodate him this time, gently rocking her hips in time with his to create a steady rhythm. Every sensation and thought aimed at her one spot as he rubbed, until his other hand found the patch of skin that is ultra sensitive to her, causing her to gasp into the kiss, stealing his air before kissing back with everything she had- just to show that she appreciated everything he were doing. She didn't realise it, but he meant everything he said. Everything that he was doing to her was a sample of how she’d be treated if she were to choose him. As he slowly rocked his hips in sync with hers, however blinding the pleasure was for him, he couldn't help but feel a nagging doubt. It almost felt like she just didn't understand why he was doing the things he was to her. It was heartbreaking. But he pressed forward. Gently pulling away from her lips and placed them steadily onto her neck, leaving gentle passionate kisses along neck and jaw. He shut his eyes and continued movements with his thumb, dying to feel her climax on him. And she was close again, she could feel it, body dancing and singing to his tune happily like a bird free on a breeze. She stretched comfortably as her fingers reached out to caress his now hot skin appreciatively, softly like a cool breeze, thoughts of what she was actually doing escape and just let herself be overwhelmed by the feeling he was creating inside of her. All those stolen glances across the morgue table that had caused her stomach to knot intensified infinitely.  
  
“Oh, Sherlock…” She sighed happily, devoted to him entirely in that moment, slowly building waves of pleasure washed over her again.

He gently rolled so that she were atop him as he pressed lips to her in a tender passionate kiss, fingers stroking along her curves, appreciating how beautiful she really was. She gasped as she was suddenly moved from underneath him, hair swishing over her shoulder covering half of her face. Quickly she tuck it behind her ear, slowly rotating hips so that he were able to feel every inch of her as she lowered her lips to lock passionately, fingertips resting on his chest, copying the patterns he was drawing across her skin in an attempt to show him what he were doing to her. The kiss trailed up his jaw to his ear. Gently capturing his lobe and sucking on it gently, grazing teeth against the sensitive underside. The desperate whimper that escaped his lips went straight to her heart, teamed with him pushing up to fill her properly causing her to tip over the edge again, sweet release finding her once more. Her head dipped down and buried it in his shoulder away from his ear as she called his name and other words she would not remember. He clutched her to him, laying her down properly atop her and hugging her to his chest. Gently he moved once more inside her and  groaned loudly his release. Sweet sweet release. He tipped his head back and crunched his eyes shut, whimpering desperately as spasms of pleasure took over. Sherlock called out to his woman, listening to the sweet words from her mouth and smiling breathlessly. He held her so tenderly in his arms and hugged her delicately, kissing the top of her head softly.

She clutched at him, feeling his pulse through her deliciously, hanging on like a small dependant child as shouts turn to whimpers and whispers in Sherlock’s ear. She could feel lips on her hair and they slowly brought her to her senses. Eyes open suddenly alert and fearful.  
  
“Oh god, what have I done?” She whispered softly as she hid her head in his chest, trying to calm herself with the familiar scent.

He held her gently to his body. The feeling of utter heartbreak washed over him as his grip tightened on her tiny body. The realisation she had no idea how much she meant to him, despite having tried his absolute hardest to please her and give her everything that she could possibly want from a man. He had put her needs before his own. And yet she didn't understand his feelings whatsoever. The detectives screwed his eyes and let a few tears escape, feeling heartbroken for the first time in his life.

She turned around and faced him, feeling the tears and wiping them away from cheeks with thumbs gently

“Shh... Don't cry... I'm sorry Sherlock, I'm so so sorry.. I” Breath catches in her throat as she look into his eyes, pressing reassuring kisses to his lips gently. But he couldn't form his feelings into words. instead just letting the tears escape. He held her gently in his arms, clutching her tightly and closing his eyes again. He kissed back messily, lips too clumsy to give a real kiss.  
  
“I suppose you'd better go…” He managed

She nodded softly  
  
“I have to.”   
  
The pathologist pulled away from his arms and sat up stretching, feeling thoroughly spent, picking up a dressing gown up from the floor and shrugging it on to her shoulders before walking to the living room and pulling on her crumpled clothes quickly running fingers through tousled hair and folding the dressing gown and placing it neatly on the sofa.

The worlds only consulting detective watched his love leave his arms, thoroughly heartbroken

“I'll see you around.” She said quietly before finally leaving, closing the door softly behind her

 **  
**She had left him broken. He decided that after she left he wouldn't return to detective work. It seemed he had to give up with the whole consulting detective thing. He lay, bewildered on his back. No matter how much he had tried, no matter how much he had put her needs first and made her feel like a goddess, no matter what he did, never was it good enough. Slowly he grew angry and resentful. There was no way he was to let another in like that again. After she left, he locked the door, and dressed in the usual; purple shirt, black trousers, suit jacket, fitted dress shoes, long coat and navy scarf. with a ruffle of his hair and a key in the door unlocking it again, Sherlock Holmes left 221B and hailed a cab, though he had no idea where he was going.


	5. You've made your point

A week later Molly Hooper text Sherlock Holmes’s phone after not seeing him for a week. Frankly she was concerned. The detective had dropped off everyone's radar and Mycroft was in panic stations, up all night trying to find him.

**Text:**

**To: Sherlock I'm going to Scotland for a week to see my cousin. I can't do this, please I'm begging you come and see me x**

***

_But Sherlock had left the country, currently in the Middle East staying with a Pakistani tribe that he had rescued from the war. His appearance was scruffy looking. It had only been a week, but already a beard started to form around his strong jaw. Hair was scruffy and unwashed, and he hadn't the energy to go out much. He received the text message, and read it carefully before slowly locking his phone again and placing it on the tatty night stand that was next to him. Soon his eyes closed and he fell back asleep on the cold, mangled mattress._

 

***

Molly left London on a cold grey wet day, getting on the train with a tiny suitcase knowing she needed to decide. She hadn't stopped thinking about Sherlock, but she love Mycroft and (possibly or) the safety he provided. Her head rested on the cool glass, looking as the world flew by Mycroft kissed her neck softly when he found her on the train and sat down neck softly, she smiles softly, but don't say anything. Playing with her phone in her hand, just wanting a reply, from him. Something. Anything.

Of course he noticed that she seemed distracted, and so gently pulled her onto his lap and smiled at her, hand cupping her jaw "Dear... What's the matter?" The whole story nearly came out of her mouth, but without knowing where Sherlock was she could lose any safety she had gained against the bad in this world

"Nothing, I was miles away." Came the honey-toned reply met by frown, knowing in his heart that there was something she wasn't telling him. A little disheartened, he dropped the subject. Molly’s head rested on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him loosely when an idea crossed her mind.

“Honey, you can track texts, can't you?” Molly slid off his lap and sat up straight and turned her phone in her palm.

Mycroft nodded slowly, eyes searching her face "What did you have in mind?"

"I sent a text to Sherlock on the number he gave me, could you find him with it?" She proposed, eyes hopeful.

Mycroft, however, looked doubtful "Sherlock would have to reply otherwise we cannot trace him"

"I'll let you know if he does then..." She mumbled, looked crestfallen and leant her head against the cool window again

Mycroft sent a short message to Sherlock’s phone, the recipient managed to stagger down the rickety stairs and into the messy kitchen to fix himself something that wasn't teeming with rats. Not much to eat in a run down house in the middle of no where. Sighing he looked at the text his brother had sent him:

**Text:**

**From: Mycroft Holmes**

**Sherlock, come home. You've made your point. Everyone misses you. MH**

An idea crossed Molly’s mind. A totally mad, crazy, possibly cruel idea. She pull out her phone and text under the table so that Mycroft couldn't see

**Text:**

**To: Sherlock**

**I think I'm pregnant, please. I need to see you. Molly x**

She hit send before she can change her mind, the fact that Mycroft might be tracking her texts didn't cross her mind.

***

_Sherlock received the text from her and wasn't surprised. He opened his mobile up and tapped the screen to view the text. Eyes widened once he saw what was written, deciding to deduce how it was written before deciding to believe it. If she was pregnant, it would have been an emergency and she would have attempted to call first instead of text because Mycroft can track her texts. He couldn't hear her calls. It didn’t take long to know she was lying. He didn't bother to reply. Instead he just snapped his phone shut and jammed it into his pocket._

***

Molly sat there tapping the screen of her phone. He had to reply, had to. She could hardly call him, Mycroft was sat next to her.... Her nail snapped, so she reach into her bag and begin to file it down to a reasonable length, and then to a short length and start on another finger, working them down to the skin, completely pointless but it was kind of soothing. Mycroft noticed what she was doing, of course so he gently grabs her hands and places them in his and smiled reassuringly. He gently pulled her into his lap and cuddled her close to his chest

"We'll find him, Molly.Don't worry," He whispered reassuringly as she buried her head in her boyfriend's chest. He just smelt of his dry cleaners and his cologne. Squeezing her eyes tighter she tried to recall her favourite smell: lavender, oranges and warm spices, faint chemicals and expensive shampoo.. Upon achieving that her eyes glaze over, she just wanted to see her sister, and to talk to her about how she felt- and what on earth Molly was supposed to do about this situation. Mycroft sensed his girlfriends edginess so he gently stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. It wouldn't be long until they were to pull up at the train station where Molly’s sister was meeting them. Molly quickly sat up and attempt to smile reassuringly before picking up her handbag and moved out to collect the suitcases. Scotland looked just as she remembered it, quiet and exclusive. She wondered if Sherlock would like it, it was so peaceful he’d probably get bored but she found the long walks stimulating and refreshing. Taking hold of Mycroft's hand she squeezed his hand reassuringly and then check her phone.

***

_Meanwhile Sherlock decided to skip breakfast and make a quick getaway. He had brought little with him; mobile phone, wallet and passport. That was it. Even his wallet was looking particularly bare as he walked hesitantly away from the large abandoned house. He was in the Middle East and the nearest airport was miles away and he possessed little food, though the detective didn't consider this a problem. More like a game. Laughing to himself as he sauntered away, a feeling of power ran through his veins. He might be a fool because of the mousy doctor, but not a foolish fool. He had enough food in his backpack for a few days- Exactly the amount of time it would take to get to the nearest city._


	6. Forever shall you be looking for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some lists, but the plot thickens to coin a phrase...

Mycroft held Molly’s hand supportively and walked off of the train and into Scotland. He enjoyed the oddly different smells and sounds. Everything seemed fresher up north. He sighed happily and followed her lead, as she her phone back in her pocket, disappointed. Dropping Mycroft's hand the second she saw her sister, who she run to and wrapped her arms tightly around her, rocking left and right before pulling back to examine her sister's face. "Jesus I've missed you!" Came a squeak before Lucy Hooper was hugged again and then Mycroft was introduced as Molly’s partner (boyfriend made her sound 16 she decided) to which Lucy raised her eyebrows, impressed as he kissed her hand lightly and then began to walk to the car.

Mycroft smiled at Molly’s sister politely, though secretly he thought very little of her. The minute the girls both looked away, he made a face and looked away, distracted by the shape of the clouds. He walked with his umbrella at his side to the car with them both, agitated by the constant stream of chatter between the women as the discussed everything from the weather to the schooling system to odd cousins and aunts and general trivia, barely pausing for breath all the way to the little cottage at the edge of a loch where the pathologist climbed out and inhaled the fresh air. So close to being perfect. So close indeed she thought, checking her phone again.

Mycroft let the time slip by. He couldn't help but wonder where his pest of a little brother had got to. He got out of the car when the others did, and made a face as he inhaled the air. Cow manure and everything that smelt like the country. He liked the northern air in the city, not in the countryside. Definately not. He sighed heavily and followed Molly’s lead.

***  
  
 _Meanwhile, Sherlock was trekking in the baking hot eastern sun, feeling the vitamin D leaking into his pores as he strode, fearless. Deciding that he wanted to play a game. He pulled my phone from his pocket and began to compose a text message to you;_

**Text:**

**To: Molly Hooper**   
  
**Molly Hooper**   
  
_It read simply and sent it without hesitation. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips and threatened to spread for the first time in months. Since his meeting with Molly actually._

***

Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket she excused herself to the bathroom, hurrying away quickly. reading , her name at least twenty times. he was alive, and thinking of her, Molly Hooper. She could have sworn her heart stopped.  
  
Meanwhile Lucy and Mycroft were stood awkwardly in the kitchen, until Mycroft excused himself to go unpack and he went into the bedroom that had been made up for them.  
  
Meanwhile Molly pressed the green button next to Sherlock’s name and listened to the dull ringing tone-

  
"Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up..."

He felt the phone vibrate in his hands. Just what he wanted her to do. Predictable little Molly. Once again let his smile spread like fire across his face into a wicked grin as he pressed the green button the screen and held the phone up to his ear,  
  
"And what can I do for you, Molly? I am a broken man. Why not continue playing happy families with Mycroft?" Came the dry whisper.

Tears silently roll down her face and she can hear her heartbeat thudding away in her ears like a drum- "You complete arsehole. I thought you were /dead/! Why have you not returned any of my texts... I... I..." Beginning  to hyperventilate, she sat down heavily on the closed toilet lid, the sound of his smooth voice running through her like burning ice.

For once in his life Sherlock Holmes stayed silent. His heart seemed to shatter at her words, they cut through him like a sharp butchers knife. And it stung. Suppressing the urge to spill his emotions into her ear he instead caged them. They were not to be trusted, instead the emotions all bubbled into anger "I am the arsehole? Hm. That's cute. I thought you wanted me to stay well clear of you considering you left my flat in such a hurry. I couldn't believe it. You were the woman I had lost my virginity to. I had taken so much time and care into making sure you were properly fulfilled and pleasured. And this is the thanks I get. Cast aside and left high and dry. I loved you. Loved. Try as you might, Molly Hooper, but I am not coming home."  the words sounded bleak to Molly, of course he meant nothing he said. He was merely protecting his feelings and himself from hurt and pain once again. There was no way he was going to go through that again.

"Fine. If you don't come back here I will walk the world until I find you. I mean it, Sherlock, I can't stand this." The pathologist’s breath hitched in panic and her was voice barely a whisper "The reason I left was because I was scared, not because.... I didn't leave because I wasn't happy or anything like that. I freaked out. I'm so so sorry, Sherlock..." Her features crumpled and her head lolled down   
  
"Then forever shall you be looking for me," He whispered hesitantly, voice cracking slightly before he hung up and switched the phone off before he could change his mind and stuffed it deep into his trouser pocket and strode forward, head down and eyes half shut, fighting tears as the baking eastern sun scorched his pale skin.

"Sherlock?! Sherlock....?" Molly look down at her phone, now displaying a picture of Toby asleep on Mycroft- her home screen. Her heart plummeted and she dropped her phone, hanging her head and scrubbing it with dry hands until it glowed rosily.    
  
Three options:  
1) Tell Mycroft and track Sherlock down   
2) Ignore it, knowing he was alive and carry on with her life  
3) Run away and attempt to find the world's only consulting detective.

The world’s only consulting detective who was continuing his trek to civilisation, heart pounding as every pore in his body ached for water.   
  
Unfortunately, Mycroft had heard her shouting his brothers name, so he had come running to the bathroom and knocked on the door.  
  
"Molly? Come out dear. What's wrong? Why are you shouting Sherlock's name?"

Molly cursed under her breath. Well that made her mind up for her. Quickly she wiped the tears that had gathered at her cheeks away- "He... Text and... I called him and then he hung up..." Slowly she opened the door and look up up at him, eyes a little puffy and red. Cautiously she wrapped her arms around him and hide her face so that he couldn't see the betrayal written all over it.

Instinctively he hugged her back, nestling her head into his chest and stroking her back supportively. He seemed unusually very calm, repeating the movement over and over, whispering that everything was okay and the he could trace the call and that he could find Sherlock. He had no clue what had gone on between the two of them. He smiled,  the phrase 'ignorance is bliss' couldn't be more appropriate.

"Sorry. I thought he was dead,and I couldn't bare telling John... Again." She bit down hand on her lower lip, wrapping the truth in believable lies, going up on tiptoes and press a kiss lightly to his lips "oh... I maybe went a bit over the top and told him I was pregnant... I'm- not, just for the record" She began to garble, shutting herself up quickly enough.

Although Mycroft was not Sherlock he was still a Holmes, and this exceptionally observant and could tell Molly had something to hide. He received the kiss but didn't return it, caught up in his thoughts, her words ringing in his ear. His grip on her loosened and he looked down at his partner, expression vacant.

"I see..."

Molly handed her phone over for him to track his brother, knowing she was losing her grip on things, quickly scuttling away, so not to give anything away, and went to go and sit with Lucy in the kitchen, catching her up on what had happened (though not all of it, obviously) her mouth falls open at the intrigue of Molly’s crazy life, tea was poured into mugs and storm clouds gathered. Pathetic fallacy crossed Molly Hooper’s mind more than once

Mycroft took the liberty of looking through Molly’s messages to see if she had anything to hide. To say he looked disappointed when he had nothing against his girlfriend was an understatement. He sighed and hooked up the mobile to a tracking device to track the call that Molly had just placed to Sherlock. The call had been recorded. And Mycroft's curiosity began to grow once he found the recording on the hard drive.

The pathologist wandered into the bedroom and noticed the amount of wires and boxes on the bed to which he brushed off with a weak smile and returned to the recording while she found a new set of clothes "I'm just going in the shower, love." She smile sweetly and then left, locking the bathroom door behind her and switching the shower on, pulling off layers of jumpers and shirts before climbing in under the relaxing spray.

Mycroft turned the volume down low, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. His thumb stroked the play button for a few seconds before applying pressure. Soon the sound of his brothers voice filled his ears. And soon Mycroft's eyes widened when he learned of Sherlock losing my virginity. To Molly, his… Nothing. He felt nothing. Nothing. And as the recording progressed to the end, his feelings for Molly were slowing evaporating in the heat of anger.

Molly washed, and then stepped out and dried herself with a large white fluffy towel, pulling on the jeans and shirt she had brought in before drying her hair with a smaller towel and then went back into the bedroom, putting the dirty clothes in a neat pile "Am I okay to use my hair dryer?" She asked, all sweetness and innocence, not wanting to blow the fuse or something- what with all the wires and electronics.

Mycroft turned to look at her, his eyes were a cold shade of blue. An unforgiving shade of blue. He rose gently from his kneeling position on the floor next to the tracking device and he took a step towards Dr Hooper, his stance guarded and his posture closed.  
  
"So... When did Sherlock and yourself decide to have sex?" He asked too casually. He asked it as if he was simply asking her to pass him the cornflakes at breakfast. His tone was calm, but his eyes were raging.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach like a stone. Again. What the hell was with today?!   
  
Two choices.  
1) Lie, hope he believes that it was before they got together  
2) Tell the truth and face the music  
  
Realistically she knew she had to tell the truth. All of it. And then just pray.


	7. Well well, Mr Holmes, fancy meeting you here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene pops up! Yay!

Realistically she knew she had to tell the truth. All of it. And then just pray.

"When I went to tell him we were moving in together. I didn't mean for it to happen, it just.... Did. I'm not proud of it. I'm sorry, Mycroft I am, I had no idea he would react the way he did..."

His body started to shake with anger. He didn't want to hear her explanation. He thought it was all Molly Hooper’s fault. He growled, a hard harsh sound.  
  
"You lying little whore! How dare you! I have bought you everything you've ever wanted; clothes, bags, a nice apartment. And this is how you treat me! How DARE you!" Mycroft uncharacteristically lost it and strode over to the tiny woman in two steps. He grabbed her neck with his large hand, wrapping it all the way around, his eyes pulsing with anger.

Molly had flinched at his words, tears beginning to swim in her eyes, this wasn't meant to happen- she hadn't ever meant to hurt anyone, or disrespect or seem ungrateful. She’d just loved but her short breath was cut off by his hand, back pinned against the wardrobe as her feet lifted off the ground. Panic filled her as she became fully aware he could kill her that second if he had wanted to. She hoped to God he didn't. "Mycroft!” Came the squeak, voice hoarse and quiet, tears finally overspilling and rolling down her red cheek

Mycroft's grip tightened on her as his growling intensifies. He made sure she was unconscious before dropping her body to the ground and leaving the house. Molly’s mobile phone was on the bed, next to the tracking device, still flashing and whirring. Lucy heard the commotion and screamed when she saw her sister's lifeless body. She phoned an ambulance immediately.

*****************************

All Molly could feel was darkness. She was trapped in nothingness, unable to move. Panic hit her- was she dead? She could feel peoples hands on her and soft voices trying to coax her out of this state. But she couldn't respond, not move, not talk or anything. She felt herself be picked up and placed on the bed, the tracking equipment pushed to one side. Slowly the light began to pierce through her eyelids, and sound flooded her ears.

Lucy had grabbed her lifeless body and laid her on the bed. The ambulance crew arrived and knocked the tracking device to the floor as they lifted the pathologists tiny body onto a stretcher. They bundled her into an ambulance and took her straight to the nearest hospital. Within minutes her heart rate began to rise and blood pressure levels were returning to normal. However the doctors wanted to keep her in to keep an eye on the glands in her throat for any swelling.

"Sherlock..." She croaked, eyes opening incrementally, slowly, lids heavy as they open. Her throat felt like it was on fire, a dull burning at the back. What she wanted was for Sherlock to be there to be holding her hand, her brain not remembering what had happened with Mycroft, or the phone call, just screaming the first thing that came into her head as a reaction.

Lucy looked at her and gently squeezed her hand, "Ssshh.... It's me," came the whisper softly as she gave her a weak smile. It was forced. 

"Luc..." Molly squeezed her hand "What.. Oh god." Everything that had happened flooded back into the pathologists mind like a summer storm. She tried to sit up sharply, desperate to attempt to fix everything, to talk to Mycroft or find Sherlock, the beeps monitoring her heart rate increased massively.

****

_Meanwhile, oblivious to what had gone on, Sherlock Holmes was still trekking through the eastern sun. The city wasn't far now however it was getting difficult to progress. He was panting as he trudged through the marsh land, muscles spasming in pain._   
_A woman in a long black burka approached, eyes dancing._

_"Well well, Mr Holmes, fancy meeting you here" Irene Adler's smooth voice cut through the desert_

__

_Turning he saw Irene standing a few feet from him. He was a mess, but an attractive mess. Dark hair was scraggly and all over the place, and sweat dripped down his face. Dirt outlined his already defined cheekbones and jaw line, and ultimately made him even more attractive than he would be if he was clean. Ripped clothes hung from a lean physique, the material coming away from the hem even if it was tugged it a little. He was truly filthy. But he looked better than he would do in a suit. Irene stared at Sherlock, and Sherlock regarded her, not happy to see her, "What do you want, Miss Adler?" He question darkly, icy glare piercing into her porcelain skin; eyes shining a startling azure._

_"Well... Aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." Anyone could see the smirk in her eyes as they raked over his body, devouring every last detail and storing it for... Future use._   
  
_"I want to help you. I think it's time you went home- before half the British secret service are out here looking for you." she offered her hand to help him up, meeting his eye_

_Sherlock glared at her, declining her help and getting up out of the marshes without her aid. He continued to trudge forward as if she wasn't there, ignoring her completely. The detective had no intention of getting involved with a whore._

_"What's happened?" Something was wrong, the younger Holmes usually at least gave her the time of day. The dark fabric swished around her legs as she stalked after him, healthier and stronger than the young man "Sherlock?" Came the demand_

_But he ignored her. She wasn't what was on his mind anymore. He simply wasn't over Molly. He never had been. It would be wrong to even let another woman think that he was interested in her. Sherlock was never going to be over her. She was the only one. his only one. The detective stalked further away from the woman, getting annoyed with the sound of her voice._

_"Tell me. Or I'll phone Mycroft and tell him where you are." She threatened standing in front of him, blocking his path. She genuinely wanted to help, Sherlock had saved her life and she owed him a favour. Big time._   
  
_She searched his face. Heartbreak. Sherlock Holmes had has his heart broken! But by whom- that was the question..._

_He stared at her, deliberately being difficult, laughing when she suggested calling Mycroft, genuinely he thought that it was funny, "Call Mycroft then. All of Lestrade's horses and all of Mycroft's men couldn't bring me home if I didn't want to.” The tone mocked softly, taunting her with his charm._

_"Who is she? She must have hurt you pretty bad..." Her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised up out of view teasingly, amused at how stubborn he was being, despite being so weak and ragged looking._

_"Molly Hooper... The beautiful and rather ravishing Molly Hooper.” Came the hazy whisper, heart beating in his chest a little harder when he uttered her name. It gave him a sense of pleasure. But the pleasure came with a bitter after taste. It made him realise how much he had been hurt, he realised that this was wrong. She belonged with Mycroft. Though he couldn't help but notice how possessive his brother was was when he was with Molly. He treated you like property and it disgusted Sherlock in an unfamiliar way._

_Irene looked around. That girl was the definition of smitten. All Sherlock had to do was breath and she would be there to do whatever he wanted._   
  
_"I don't follow... The mouse broke your heart? How? She would dance to any tune you gave her." She said bluntly, curious and confused._

_"That mouse you are referring to is a beautiful woman who didn't need to take her clothes off to impress me!" Sherlock snapped, his eyes glowing dark and his face burning with anger._

_"It wasn't an insult!" The woman held her hands up defensively, man. He really had it bad. "You didn't answer my question though..." She crossed her arms and met his eye, completely unphased and collected_

_The once great man stared at her unhappily and mirrored her, folding his arms, not wanting to answer her question. It was none of her business and she didn't have any right to ask him anything regarding his feelings towards another individual._

_She rolled her eyes. Christ this man was difficult. "I can't help if you don't tell me." She sighed as she pulled off the stifling cover from her head, long jet black hair falling neatly over her shoulder and her lips a familiar warm shade of dark red_

_"Forgive my boldness, but I do believe it's none of your business.” He whisper darkly and dodged past her, not bothered by how beautiful she thought she looked in the slightest._

_"What are you on!? A bloody suicide mission!" she called, confused and bewildered by his actions. She couldn't figure it out. Molly Hooper was smitten with Sherlock Holmes. A blind man could see that. What on earth had gone on?!_

_He just carried on walking away from Irene. She was frankly annoying him, he hated the way she thought she could use her so called beauty to try to trick him into things that he didn't want a part in. Continuing to walk he didn't turn back, knowing he was close to the city. There he would offer his services as a detective. Then everyone could see how long the crime statistics would take to rise in London and fall in the Middle East, giving away his location to anyone in power looking for him._

***

Meanwhile Molly had discharged herself from the hospital and had gone back to the cottage, not explaining anything to Lucy yet- not able to voice how deep the trouble she was in was. At home she sat in bed texting and calling his phone constantly, praying Sherlock might pick up, too scared to even think about Mycroft, and Lucy hadn't asked her any questions. Slowly she was tumbling into some form of depression, not wanting to function, move, eat. The pounds fell off of her until she was basically skin and bone, the only thing she would pay any attention to was her phone.  
  


***

  
_A few days went by and he managed to blag his way into a hotel room. He cleaned up, shaved and dressed in a sharp pressed suit. Eventually he reached into his pocket for his mobile and switched it on. A tonne of texts and missed calls danced across the screen. Poor Molly. He quickly decided to send her a text. It simply read;_   
  


**Text:**

**To: Molly Hooper**

**I am so sorry.**

**Text:**

**To: Sherlock**

**Sherlock- he knows. He tried to kill me and then left. Please, I need you. Come home. Please, I'm begging you.**  
 **Molly x**  
  
She redrafted the message several times before sending it. Her heart pounding out her chest. She needed to go back to London soon, she had already taken an extra week off and couldn't take much more.

 **  
**The great detective Sherlock Holmes didn't respond.

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is so welcome- I hope you enjoy it!


End file.
